The Other Woman
by cakebythepound
Summary: What is Rick to do when he falls for someone that isn't his wife? (Richonne. Semi-AU. Still post-apocalypse, but some things are... different. Warnings: Adult stuff and stuff.)
1. Nine Crimes

**1: Nine Crimes**

_Leave me out with the waste  
><em>_This is not what I do  
><em>_It's the wrong kind of place to be thinking of you  
><em>_It's the wrong time for somebody new  
><em>_It's a small crime  
><em>_And I've got no excuse_

The rain was unrelenting, thick heavy drops falling over the windows, pounding loudly over the roof of the car. The windows had fogged considerably, and it was almost hard for them to breathe in its stuffy wake.

Michonne's chocolate legs were thrown over each of Rick's shoulders as his tongue pervaded every part of her pulsing, wet center. The bottom half of her body was wriggling against his strong hands, trying to hold out while his lips did whatever they wanted to do to her.

"Fuck, Rick," she moaned out loud, rocking her pussy against his licks. Her head was pressed against the door handle of the back seat, but she ignored the pain for the delicious pleasure. "I'm gonna come on your face," she warned him jokingly in her fit of fervor.

"Do it," he mumbled into her, feeling encouraged by the excitement in her voice.

She could feel him smiling as he sucked at her clit, he was enjoying this way too much. "You're such an ass," she breathed. She grabbed a handful of his short curls before she began to shudder in satisfaction when her orgasm took over her body. His hands gently squeezed her supple ass as he licked her clean, while she continued to try and writhe out of his clutches.

"You okay?" he asked with a sly grin once he was done.

She knew that he knew she was anything but okay, but she gave him a nod and looked at him as if she were ready to devour him herself. She sat up and waited for him to do the same, meeting her gaze. He was so beautiful, she thought, even when they were doing… this. He had eyes like the ocean and lips like warm cherry pie. Her favorite part of this was that those eyes and those lips were hers for just a little while.

She instantly moved in to kiss him, taking pleasure in the way he tasted after his near-assault on her nether regions. She moved her luscious lips down his stubbly jawline and to his strong neck, making a meal out of his smooth and salty skin. "You got a condom?" she managed to ask between nibbles.

He silently answered her request by pulling the package out of his pocket while she hastily unbuttoned his jeans. She then pulled off her tank top and the two of them anxiously explored one another's bodies with their mouths and hands. The air was sticky and uncomfortable, but neither of them could bring themselves to care, all they wanted in the moment was each other.

Once he pulled the rubber on, she got into position in his lap, and slowly eased down on top of his dick. She moaned softly, letting her back fall against his chest as she rocked against him in a steady rhythm. Her hair fell into his face, and he held onto her hips, filling her completely each time she circled her pussy around his length.

His breath against her back was warm and wet, causing her to move faster with every exhale. She erotically bounced on top of him, sqeezing his swollen cock every time she took him in, her soft whimpers reaching a crescendo as she reeled with pleasure. His hand went up her torso and underneath her bra to fondle her supple breast, gently kneading the hardening nipple as she continued to move against him.

"Michonne," he whispered quietly, unsure of where he was going after that. Her gyrating hips had him speechless, really, and his mind was blank aside from her name on his lips. He could feel her ass jiggling against his thighs and his mind going numb. She was too good at this.

Soon, she stopped moving altogether and rearranged herself so that she was facing him. She slid onto him once again, the two of them locking eyes as she continued to roll her body against him. His lips dove for her chest, hungrily sucking her tits out of her bra while his fingers softly roamed over her clit. She began to move faster, to the stroke of his fingers, and her insides felt like they were on fire.

She clung to his shirt with one hand, held the backseat headrest for leverage, and began to grind against him so seductively, he couldn't stand it anymore. He had to clutch her hips, encouraging her as she rode him furiously, panting and moaning while she squeezed her walls around him, her breasts bouncing with every move. The rain against the window, the sound of their bodies crashing together, and her breath in his ear, he was done for. He came in one giant wave of pleasure, cursing as his orgasm washed over him, and when she shuddered against him, he was glad to know she had come again too.

"Jesus," he sighed, happily falling back into the seat behind him.

She was breathing heavily, but pulled herself off of him and settled into the spot beside him so that she could catch her breath. "It's hot," she noted tiredly, attempting to wipe the dampness from her face.

He looked over to her and smiled, but hated that things between them were always over so quickly once they were done. No time to cuddle, no time for pillow talk. They would find their clothes and go their separate ways for the night.

"Should we wait 'til it stops raining?" he asked hopefully. He wasn't ready to go home. Not yet.

As she finished pulling her pants back on, she offered him her warmest smile and gave him a soft pat on the face. "I think we've done enough damage for today." Before he knew it, she was climbing into the passenger seat, obviously waiting for him to take his spot on the drivers' side.

In silence, they drove the two blocks to her house, where she could see the lights were on, which meant her roommates were home. She gave Rick a look, acknowledging that he'd made the right call about them staying in the car to do their deed. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow," she smirked at him, almost a bit sad that she would have to spend the night without him. She should've been used to it by now, but she wasn't.

"You will," he promised, returning her gaze with a wistful smile. He watching her every move as she exited and made a beeline for her front door. She moved like a cat, quick and balletic. She really was something.

He waited a few minutes, making sure she was safely inside before he began his reconnaissance, ensuring the car was free and clear of any of their activities. It was, after all, on loan from the leader there at the Alexandria Safe Zone. And he knew he and Michonne probably shouldn't use their professional car for pleasure, but… shit happens. Sometimes, more often than it should.

_Leave me out with the waste  
><em>_This is not what I do  
><em>_It's the wrong kind of place to be cheating on you_

The rain had finally begun to let up once he started to make his way across the street to his own home. He could only shake his head as he pulled Carl's bike up their walkway, soon followed by a collection of wet chalk Judith had obviously been playing with. He left both items at the front door, along with his soaked boots, and entered his warm home._  
><em>

"It's me," he called out to anyone who would listen. He immediately removed his gun, along with its holster, and left it on the table near the door.

It wasn't long before Carl appeared at the top of the steps, glad to see his father was back. "Hey, Dad."

"Hey," he looked up to greet his teenager. "You left your bike in the middle of the yard, you know."

"Mom said not to go out and get it since it was raining so hard," he shrugged, trampling down the steps. "Is dinner ready yet?"

Rick frowned at the information, but followed his son to the kitchen, where his wife was sitting at the table, feeding their daughter. He motioned to give Judith a quick kiss before exploring the contents of the stove along with Carl.

"Meatloaf again?" Carl made a face that pretty much echoed Rick's sentiments.

"You don't like it, don't eat it," Lori replied tersely as she wiped Judith's mouth. She looked at Rick and could tell he didn't want her dinner either, but it wasn't like they had a lot of options. It was her job to ration the food for her family, and meatloaf was the easiest way to keep them fed for more than one night. "Sorry," she eventually added offhandedly.

With a small sigh, Rick made a plate for Carl, taking a few bites for himself just to ward off the hunger pangs, and then retreated upstairs to take a shower. He was looking forward to being alone with his thoughts, even if they were all of Michonne.

From his upstairs window, he had a perfect view of her house, which was a dangerous thing, he realized. He could stand there for hours, just waiting for a glimpse of her, if he really wanted to. He wondered if she was thinking of him in that moment, or if she left their relationship, if you could call it that, wherever she left him. He always meant to ask her, but he was scared the answer would disappoint him, so he would save it. Perhaps, for another rainy day. For the time being, he would have to believe that she was just as lonely for him as he was for her.

_It's the wrong time, she's pulling me through  
><em>_It's a small crime  
><em>_And I've got no excuse  
>Is that alright with you?<em>

* * *

><p><em>Lyrics: "9 Crimes" - Damien Rice (9)<em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: Trying something a little different here. Worry not, my friends - my dear Michonne will not be relegated to just a side chick. Bear with me! -Ash**_


	2. Leaving

_**A/N: Thank you guys for the feedback! I know Lori's name isn't the most exciting thing to see, but I thought it added an interesting twist. And I'll tell you now, she probably won't die, but... maybe you'll enjoy her getting her comeuppance. Maybe. If that's what happens, lol. Anywho, hope you enjoy! -Ash**_

* * *

><p><strong>2: Leaving<strong>

Rick was shaken from his dreams by the sound of his alarm clock going off. 6:30AM always seemed to come so quickly, he thought to himself with a long yawn. He took note of the gloomy morning that had continued from the previous night and hesitantly pulled himself out of bed. He quietly padded down the hallway to Carl's room to wake him up as well.

"Hey," he shook his son softly.

Carl was wrapped up in a mountain of blankets, but slowly came to as he realized he was being bothered. "No," he groaned tiredly, revealing himself from his covers.

"Come on, you know the drill," Rick whispered, pulling down his comforters. "It's still raining, so you'd better get up if you want a ride."

"Five more minutes," he pleaded.

"Carl."

"Fine, I'm up, I'm up." He tore himself from slumber and looked at his dad with sleepy blue eyes. "I think you're working too hard, Dad."

Rick smirked at the assertion, unsure of where it was coming from. "What makes you say that?"

"I mean, you got home at like eight last night, and now you're back at it just a few hours later. You look like you need a break."

Rick sighed heavily, uncomfortable with where the conversation was threatening to take him. Indeed, he did work hard to keep things safe at the Alexandria Safe Zone, but as last night had proven, he also played hard. But he obviously couldn't tell his son that, so he simply shook his head. "I'm fine," he assured Carl, running a hand over his endless messy hair. "Just didn't sleep well. That's all."

"Probably because you didn't eat," Carl noted, catching his father's eye.

He gave his son a small smile, appreciative that he worried about him. "Maybe so."

He turned to leave, but was halted by the kid's words. "Dad?"

"Yeah?" he turned to face him once more.

"We're safe now, right?"

"We're fairly safe," he rationalized for himself and his worried child. "Safer than we've ever been, I'd say."

Carl nodded. "Then can't we just move into our own house?" he whispered carefully. "She doesn't need you anymore."

"Carl..."

"I was thinking about it last night while I was eating dinner. What's the point of all this if none of us are gonna be happy?"

"I thought you liked it here," Rick frowned.

"I do. And I'm glad we found it," he answered reassuringly. "But I don't understand why we're doing this. Why we've gotta pretend to be some happy family when we haven't been that for a long, long time."

He understood exactly what Carl was saying, but wasn't sure he had the time or even the wherewithal to process it in that moment. His son was absolutely right - he and Lori hadn't been happy for nearly two years. Not since he came back from the dead and found out she had taken up with Shane.

Rick did his best to understand it. The world ended and she thought he was dead. No telling what you'd do in a situation like that. But there was something in the way she continually abandoned him in his hour of need, it was impossible to stay in love with her. To even like her, really, after the gut punch of finding out she was pregnant by his best friend.

He tried to be okay with it, God knows, but Lori didn't make it easy. She never made anything easy. He had to kill his best friend and she went cold. All that supportive bullshit she'd been spouting came to cease; she began to look at him differently, like maybe she married a murderer. She stopped trusting him. And that was it. The end of their marriage, for all intents and purposes. Rick had to actively stop himself from hating her. It was difficult, and didn't happen until after Judith was born, but he figured out a way to coexist with her. But that was all it was. The two of them shared walls, not a life. And so maybe Carl was right, that that wasn't really a life worth living.

"You go on and take a shower," he eventually told his son. He didn't have an answer for the question posed, so he was going to ignore it for now. "I'll make us some breakfast."

He quickly left Carl's room, pondering their current state of affairs, and headed into Lori's room, where Judith had taken up residence. Quietly, he pulled his baby girl from her crib, careful not to wake his wife, and the two of them moved downstairs to begin their day.

* * *

><p>Within the hour, Rick, Carl, and Judith were sitting at their kitchen table, enjoying a breakfast of pancakes and canned peaches when there was a soft knock at the front door.<p>

Carl shot up to answer it, pleasantly surprised to see Michonne standing on their porch. "Hey," he greeted her with a wide smile after swinging the door open.

"Hey yourself," she grinned at the young man, noting that he began to look more and more like his father every day. "What are you so happy about this early in the morning?"

"First of all you're here," he offered, leading her into their quiet home. "Second of all, Dad made pancakes."

"Ah, I see," she confirmed for herself as she entered the Grimes' kitchen to see Rick and Judith at the table laughing at each other. "Good morning, you two."

"Mornin'," Rick returned with a smile just as big as Carl's. "You here for breakfast?"

"Actually, I was here for you, officer." She realized how flirtatious that sounded out loud and appended her statement. "To pick you up for work."

"A little early, aren't you?"

"We told Douglas we would meet him at eight for a briefing..."

"Oh shit, I forgot all about that."

She had taken note of his pajamas and figured as much. "I wonder what you'd do without me," she joked with a smile.

He shook his head as he stood from the table. "I don't wanna know."

"I got this," she nodded, encouraging him to go ahead and get ready. She slid his plate across the table towards her and took a seat between Rick's two kids. "It's still raining out there. You gonna need a ride to school?" she asked Carl as she popped a piece of pancake into her mouth. She tore a small piece for Judith and handed it to her as she waited for his answer.

"Dad said he would take me," he nodded, stuffing his own face with peaches. "That was before this meeting, of course."

She glanced at her watch and nodded as well. "I'll take you if time gets too tight."

"Thanks."

"How's it going with that teacher, by the way?"

"Jenn?" he looked up from his breakfast. "Better, I guess," he shrugged casually. "I mean, I still don't like her, but she finally realized that I'm not a baby and I know how to freakin' multiply."

Michonne couldn't help but chuckle at his frustration. "They need to get you a college professor, huh?"

"That would actually be pretty cool," he admitted. "There's a couple of kids my age that would probably like that too."

"There are," she instinctively corrected him as she handed over another piece of pancake for Judith to slobber all over.

"What?"

"There _are_ a couple of kids your age. Not, 'There is.'"

He gave Michonne an unamused look. "Really?"

"You can't complain about school and then speak improperly!"

He took a long sip from his orange juice and then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Let's not ruin this," he jokingly shook his head.

"Oh, hush," she grinned, playfully shoving him lightly. She helped Judith take a few sips of water before finishing what was left of Rick's plate. She figured he would have taken a shower the night before, so he would be back soon, and quickly moved to get their dishes to the sink. "Did your dad tell you he was thinking about letting you help with gun training classes?" she inquired casually.

Carl's eyes lit up at the news, and he wondered if she was serious. "Really?"

She nodded as she began to scrub the first and only pan. "He said he wants to get started now so that when summer comes, everybody'll be fairly adept at shooting."

"Dude."

"I probably should've let him tell you that, but... ah well."

"Rick didn't tell him because I was opposed to the idea." Lori suddenly entered the kitchen, her arms folded over her chest as if she were cold, bringing Michonne and Carl's conversation to a screeching halt. "Good morning," she added.

Michonne turned to the woman she knew as Rick's wife and offered a tense smile. "Good morning."

"You really don't have to do that. I got it," she replied without looking up, referring to their dishes. She was clinking glasses and silverware as if she were angry about something.

Carl, however, was still concerned with the fact that his mother didn't want him helping on weapons training. "Mom, why can't I help? I obviously know what I'm doing."

"I know that, baby. I just think you should focus on getting some semblance of a childhood back, not delve further into all this violence and guns." She offered him a sympathetic smile. "Not while we're safe."

Michonne had to stop herself from rolling her eyes, as that was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. If anything, all of them needed to stay sharp, not get comfortable. But Carl was Lori's son, and she had no right to interfere. Still, she didn't want to stand there any longer. "Carl, if you wanna grab your bag, I'll run you to school."

As he hastily disappeared with a nod, Lori turned to the woman behind her. "He can't walk anymore?"

"Just trying to be nice," Michonne returned flatly. She was sure to move away from the sink and to the opposite side of the kitchen to wait for Carl. She was thankful when Rick appeared as well.

"I'm sorry about that," he told her quietly.

He softly placed a hand on each of her shoulders as he passed behind her, causing a shiver throughout her body. Something about him touching her in the same room as his wife made her uneasy. "No problem," she answered him in her own nervous whisper. She then watched in amusement as he went to Judith and lifted her high into the air before giving her a kiss goodbye. The laugh that baby gave him was quite possibly the cutest thing she had ever seen.

"Goodbye, love," he told her, sitting her back in her high chair.

Michonne didn't miss the look that Lori sent his way, as if she wondered whether he was talking to her for a moment. But then Carl came trampling down the steps and she didn't give any more thought to it. "You all ready?" she asked him.

"Yup."

"You take a jacket," Lori called out to her son as the three of them headed towards the exit.

No one replied to her command, but Rick did make sure to ask Michonne if she got a chance to have breakfast. "You get somethin' to eat?"

She nodded as she watched him pull on his gun holster. "I did. Judith and I shared the rest of your plate."

"Dad makes the best pancakes," Carl declared as he opened their front door once again. "Of course that's all he can make."

"Better than me," Michonne chuckled. "I could burn a pot of coffee."

"Hell, I'm pretty sure you have," Rick joked with a happy smile. "Douglas was in shock at how bad it was."

"Now you know you didn't have to bring that up," she grinned back. "It was a new coffee machine, Rick."

"Uh huh." Once Rick's gun was in place and he grabbed his own jacket, they were ready to go. "Say goodbye to your sister," he reminded Carl.

The teen swiftly ran into the kitchen to kiss his baby sister goodbye and Michonne looked at Rick curiously. She'd spent a lot of time in the company of the Grimes family and had obviously noticed that Rick rarely, if ever, said anything to Lori. But as she stood there now, in the woman's house, she realized how uncomfortable it was to watch. "You should say goodbye to your wife," she whispered.

He didn't know why she was pretending care about Lori now, when less than twelve hours ago, the two of them were down the block, fucking in their work car. He simply shook his head and ran his thumb across Michonne's bottom lip. "She doesn't deserve it."

She closed her eyes at his touch but found a way to shake it away before Carl could catch them. Just then, he shuffled back into the foyer with his backpack in place and the three of them were off. Before the door slammed shut, Michonne made sure to call back, "Bye, Lori."

Lori had certainly taken notice that her own husband and son pretty much refused to speak to her nowadays, but as she moved to the kitchen window to see her family happily disappear into their day with some other woman, she knew she would have to take what she could get. "Bye, Michonne..."


	3. Damaged Goods

_**A/N: Wow, some pretty stellar feedback on this last chapter, lol. I really love hearing all the different sides on this. I think my only goal is to tell you a story that takes a look at every point of view. I don't want you guys to feel bad for Lori, but if you do... well you're a punk and you need to get your emotions together! No, I'm kidding, that's awesome. I don't, but I do want her side to be taken into consideration, and I think it just makes for interesting dialogue. **_

_**As for Rick, well this is an alternate universe, and I wanted to purposely create someone that was different from the man we all know and love. In my mind, if Lori hadn't died, his journey for the past two seasons is different. At the beginning of S3, we see a Rick who's basically done with Lori, and I'm kind of hanging out in that mindset of his. And maybe he takes it for granted that he's been able to keep his family together. So I'm exploring that a little, and maybe a couple of flashbacks will help to see how he got there. **_

_**And last but certainly not least, Siancore, you gotta get outta my head, girl! I read your review like, "Omg, this is everything I think, but better!" You took note of all the things I wanted to say about these people, even the fact that this is not necessarily about rooting for Richonne. I mean, I always root for them, but this is definitely not your usual, post-apocalyptic why-don't-we-fall-in-love romance. I wanted to write something messy and maybe a little ugly, because people are like that sometimes. And it's fun! To write, anyway. Maybe it's depressing to read lol.**_

_**Anyway, I'm talking a lot. Thank you guys so much for indulging me, I really do hang onto every word you say!**_

* * *

><p><strong>3: Damaged Goods<strong>

_A year earlier…_

Rick and Carl were standing in the courtyard of the prison, on walker watch, when a strange figure began to approach their fences. It was a woman, and she at least appeared to be alive as she stood there holding a shopping basket full of baby formula, but she was positioned amongst the walkers as if she were one of them. Rick could only stare, trying to figure out what was going on. Was he seeing things?

She didn't say anything either – she couldn't – but just stared with these big, beautiful brown eyes. She looked scared. She looked lost. And when she held her hand over an apparent, gaping wound on her leg, Rick knew she was injured, as well. It took her passing out before he sprang into action and helped her inside, but there was something in the way she spoke to him without saying a word at all, he knew this wouldn't be just some passing stranger.

She was able to inform him that Maggie and Glenn were taken by some character named The Governor, and even helped to save them. There were some bumps along the way – they'd lost their new friend Oscar to a bullet, and Daryl to his brother – but he had gained Michonne, which he'd begun to think was just as equal an asset.

"Thank you," Rick told her seriously as they headed back into the prison with Glenn and Maggie just ahead of them. He knew whatever damage had been done to the two of them was likely irreparable, but they were alive, at least. And without Michonne, they wouldn't have been able to say that much.

"You're welcome," was all she said in return as she strutted past him and towards the doors to the prison.

Before she could make it inside, before they went their separate ways, he called after her softly. "Hey."

She stopped in her tracks and turned around to look at the man that had allowed her into his home without too many questions asked. It was unsettling to her, how much she trusted him, which was why she wanted to get away from him, but he refused to make it easy. "Yes?"

"You gouged that man's eye out?" He was referring to this Governor character, who'd obviously just suffered an eye injury when they saw him corral Daryl and Merle in their weird little Woodbury arena.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out whether Rick was attempting to judge her for it. He wasn't happy that she'd run off without telling him, and she understood that. But she wasn't sure whether he understood exactly why she'd done it. "He's a dangerous man," she answered curtly.

"I know," Rick nodded. "And you took his eye, so what does that make you?" He pulled the door open and motioned for her to go inside ahead of him.

She couldn't help but smirk at his assertion. He was right. What did that make her? But he was allowing her back into the cellblock, along with his kids and his wife, so he obviously trusted her on some level, too. This time, it was her turn to catch him before he could walk off. "If you need me for anything else… just let me know."

He nodded with his piercing blue eyes fixated on her. "I'm probably gonna need you for a run later on this week. But I'll let you know."

With a nod of understanding, the two of them parted ways, Michonne headed to find a new cell to call home, while Rick went to check on his kids and Lori. He found them in Lori's cell, mother and daughter quietly resting, while his son was kneeled at the edge of the bed, reading about Tom Sawyer for what had to be the tenth time.

"Dad!" Carl hopped up from his mother's side when he saw that his father had returned from his mission. "Did you find them?"

"We got 'em," he answered with a confident nod. But as his eyes flitted down to the floor, it was clear that something else was wrong.

"What is it?" Lori wondered out loud, seeing the anguish on her husband's face. "Somebody else die?"

He took a deep breath and glanced at her briefly, but let his eyes drop back to his son. "We lost Oscar," he admitted softly. "And we found Merle at this place. Daryl decided to go off with him."

"What?" she frowned. "Are you serious?"

"I'm very serious," he sighed again, sitting at the opposite end of her bed. "And this guy that took Glenn and Maggie is no joke, honestly. So I don't know what's about to happen."

"Rick…"

Carl looked up to his father in every sense of the word. "We'll be okay, Dad."

Lori was visibly alarmed, but she didn't want to have this conversation in front of their son. Even if her hope was running on empty, she didn't want to cause the same in Carl. "Sweetie, can you give me and your dad a minute?"

He frowned at his mother, knowing that she was about to say something that further stressed out his dad, but there wasn't much he could do in the moment. He had to listen to his mother. He nodded and grabbed his hat from the desk in her room as he walked out.

Once he was gone, Lori did her best to sit up with their newborn in her arms, and gazed at her husband curiously. "What… happened out there?"

"We started a war," he declared hoarsely. He hated to admit it, but the fact was, they would have to answer for the things they'd done to save their people. "This guy had Maggie and Glenn in some kind of dungeon. Damn near beat Glenn to a pulp with him tied to a chair and then threw a walker in the room. They had Daryl and Merle in some kind of gladiator arena and would've had them fight to the death if we hadn't shown up. It was insane."

Lori looked sick. "Who the hell are these people?"

"I dunno," Rick shook his head contemplatively. "We thought Tomas and Andrew were bad, but they were nothin' compared to what I saw last night."

"And you think you can handle this on your own? Without Daryl?"

"I think I don't have a choice," he gave her a frustrated frown and stood from his seat. "Daryl ain't the only factor here."

"That's not what I'm saying, Rick-."

He cut her off before she could finish her thought. He was angry now. "What the hell are you sayin' then?"

"I just… want to make sure that you've thought about this." She eyed him carefully, knowing that he was on the verge of blowing his top. "From all sides, I mean."

"I can't believe I get you this far…" he started to mumble, but then thought better of it. "I'll handle it," he eventually finished, not wanting to have any further discussion with her. He just couldn't understand why she constantly made this harder than it already was. "If you need anything for the baby, let Hershel know and I'll handle that, too."

She made sure to catch him before he could walk off. "Her name is Judith," she informed him softly. "Carl picked it out."

He turned to her, but his eyes focused in on the newborn instead. He wished he felt more connected to her. He wished he didn't have to fake this feeling of love. Or force it, rather. In his mind, he knew he had nothing against this child. She couldn't help the circumstances she was born into. But his feelings for her mother were really clouding his emotions. He couldn't even bear to hold her yet. He didn't like the man he was becoming, but how was he supposed to help it?

"Judith," he nodded. "All right."

And then he was gone.

* * *

><p>Two days later, Michonne and Rick had made their way to Rick's old hometown of King County, GA. The group was in desperate need of ammo if they had any chance against this Woodbury crew, so the two of them were more than thankful to have been successful in their mission. Successful enough, anyway, considering the events of the afternoon. Rick had come across his old friend, Morgan, who'd obviously not been doing too well. The man was disheveled, erratic, even dangerous. He was damaged. And after losing his wife and son, Rick couldn't exactly blame him. But he wished he could've helped him more. He wished he could've saved him.<p>

"That's not your fault," Michonne told Rick as they returned to their car, seemingly reading his mind out of nowhere. Rick only looked at her, sadly, but inquisitively, so she went on. "What happened to him, that's not your fault."

"I didn't say it was," he croaked out quietly. He looked up just as a few raindrops began to fall, catching his face. "I just know… he doesn't deserve this fate."

She glanced back at him tentatively. "And we do?"

"I'm just guessin', but I imagine that sword comes with a few sins attached. Lord knows this gun does."

The two of them stood at the back of their SUV, eyeing one another as they slowly loaded the trunk with their war supplies. The rain began to fall harder, but Michonne didn't move, so he didn't either. He was waiting for her to answer.

"Killing bad people doesn't make us bad people," she finally told him seriously.

He nodded and began to mumble as he looked around his abandoned hometown. "Yeah, that's what we keep telling ourselves…"

"You wanna feel guilty, that's fine with me." She slammed the trunk and gave him one last glance before heading for the passenger side of the car.

"Hey," he stopped her. She turned only her head, waiting for him to speak. "You wanna drive?"

She frowned at him as though he'd suggestively asked if she wanted a ride. "No, you can drive."

"All right," he shrugged, taking towards the left side of the vehicle without any further protest. Once they were safely inside, he surveyed the landscape ahead – dark clouds and a long, winding road, as evening was beginning its approach. "This is gonna be a long ride," he commented casually.

"This is why you should've eaten some of his food," she deadpanned as she settled into her seat.

Het let out a quiet chuckle at her stoic attempt at a joke. "For the record," he started, along with the rev of the engine, "I don't _want_ to feel guilty. I just wish I thought I was doing something right."

"What makes you think you aren't?"

"I just look at us, and I see how broken we are, and I… I dunno," he shook his head, but it was clear that the weight was on his shoulders. "You haven't been here for most of it, but… this group is broken."

"I don't know you," she admitted softly. "I get that. But I see you, Rick."

He took off for their destination before he asked her what she meant. "What do you see?"

"I see a good man."

He didn't know why her statement made him feel better, but it did. The weight had lifted a bit with just five little words. How did she see it when he couldn't? "I appreciate that," he smirked.

"You scare me sometimes, but… that's more my fault than yours."

"I scare you?" he asked incredulously, looking over to her as she offered a small smile. If he'd blinked, he would've missed it, but it was the first time he'd seen her even attempt one, and the sight made him literally swerve in the road. Her stare was enough to do him in, but that smile would be the death of him, for sure. "What could I possibly have done to scare you?"

"It's not you, it's me," she promised, almost jokingly. "It was just… alarming to meet you and immediately trust you the way that I did. That's not how I operate."

He had to smile back at what he knew was another compliment, coming from someone like her. "But you immediately know when you don't trust someone?"

"That's true," she allowed. "But it's much easier to lose than it is to earn, which is why I don't know why I've given it to you so easily."

"Yeah, I guess that'd scare me, too."

She gazed out of the window as the two of them allowed silence to envelop the car. The rain was enough to keep them company as they slowly navigated through the Georgia forest, back to the prison. Back to their home.

Michonne had to admit, she was confused when she realized that it would be just the two of them on this little road trip. She wondered if it would turn out to be some weird recruitment tactic, where he dropped her off in the middle of nowhere and she would have to find her way back to the prison if she wanted to be a part of the group. And then she thought that he was going to bring her back to Woodbury in exchange for some shitty thing or another. These were the things she expected of people nowadays, but the fact was, she still felt completely comfortable getting into that car with him at the beginning of the day. This guy was breaking all her rules.

"Your baby is beautiful," she declared, finally sick of her own thoughts as she turned back towards her companion.

His grip visibly tightened on the wheel before he replied. "Thank you."

"I wasn't sure I would see a baby again." She also wasn't sure she could handle seeing a baby again. "It's nice."

Rick nodded. "Her name is Judith, Carl decided."

She offered a small, closed-mouth grin in reply. "How's your wife doing?"

His face reacted to that question, contorting into a grimace before he could stop himself. He shook his head now and cleared his throat. "She's all right."

She couldn't help but notice the shift in his demeanor. He had never been especially warm, but his rigidity was almost palpable. "Are _you_ all right?"

"Yeah." The raindrops seemed to be falling faster, matching the thoughts racing through his mind. "I umm… I dunno."

"You're not all right?"

He shook his head, trying to shake away this coldness that had suddenly washed over him. He hated this feeling. "She's not my wife," he whispered softly.

Underneath the falling rain, she could barely hear him. "What was that?"

"It's complicated," he said this time, unable to open up such an ugly can of worms at the moment. "I won't say we hate each other, but… love is hard right now."

"When is love not hard?" she scoffed.

He glanced at her briefly, finding himself wondering what her story was before she found them. Wondering if she would share it with him.

"I would give anything to have Mike back," she revealed wistfully, inhaling the stale air between them once the words were out there.

"That was your husband?" he guessed.

"He was never my husband." She sighed shakily this time. "But I would've liked that..."

He nodded, feeling sorrow for them both.

"He wasn't perfect by any means, but it gets lonely at the end of the world," she proclaimed with a thoughtful frown as she looked over to Rick. "Most of us don't have any family left. So maybe… don't take this thing for granted with you and your wife."

He could only think how much easier said than done that was. "Did Mike abandon you when you needed him most?"

She thought about this for only a moment before she found herself cringing as they passed by two walkers wandering aimlessly through an open field. "Yeah, he pretty much did."

"And you still want him back? Still wish he was here with you?"

"Every day."

Now he really felt sad for her. "You deserve better then." But he also understood her. And he silently began to hope that they could find their way back together. "We both do."


	4. You Oughta Know

**4: You Oughta Know**

"Carl!"

At the sound of his father's voice, the teenager came trampling down the steps of their home, all dressed and ready to go. He reached the foyer just in time to see Judith stumbling in to meet him, with Rick following not far behind. "We all ready?" he asked his dad.

"Just about," Rick nodded. "I'm gonna get your sister's jacket on. You grab the potatoes from the kitchen counter."

Carl nodded and did as told, finding a large casserole dish full of mashed potatoes next to a smaller dish covered in foil. "Which one, Dad?" he yelled back in confusion.

"The big one!" Rick called back.

He returned with the correct pan, seeing his sister in his dad's arms, all bundled up. He smiled at her before looking to Rick. "What's the other one for?"

"It's for us," Rick smiled himself as he opened the door for the three of them. "Michonne made it."

Carl's eyes widened in surprise, remembering that she'd told him she couldn't cook to save her life. "Michonne? Really?"

"She found a recipe for sweet potato pie that she wanted to try out."

"So she's testing it out on us," Carl made a face. "Great."

Rick chuckled, having said the same thing when she came by to bring him the dessert. Part of him looked forward to trying it, just because she made the effort, but most of him was scared. "I'll go first," he promised.

The trio continued down their walkway and onto the sidewalk, finding the streets dotted with their fellow neighbors, headed for the front of the ASZ complex. Everyone was toting some dish or another, as per the rules that each home had to participate and bring a dish to Thanksgiving dinner.

They arrived to the neighborhood's clubhouse to find the place decorated with a main table, full of food, surrounded by several smaller tables for residents to divide up amongst themselves. Carl found Michonne and Daryl sitting near the back door, and he immediately pulled his dad towards them.

"Well well, look what the cat dragged in," Daryl greeted the Grimes family with a smirk. "Y'all are late."

"I think y'all are early," Rick returned, taking a seat next to his friend. "How long you been waitin'?"

"Two minutes," Michonne chuckled in reply. "Glenn went to get drinks."

"Drinks as in alcohol?" Rick's eyebrows raised hopefully.

"As in homemade fruit punch," Daryl rolled his eyes. "But we still got some Jack back at the house, right, 'Chonne?"

"Me and Sasha finished that a long time ago," she scoffed. "You're thinking of vodka."

"I would never think of vodka," he mumbled, biting his bottom lip. He then gave Lil' Asskicker a glance and a wink before looking back at Rick. "What'd y'all bring?"

"Just some mashed potatoes," he shrugged, beginning to pull off Judith's jacket. "Lori got first dibs on the list and that's what she chose."

"Michonne chose pie, like any one of us know how to make a pie."

"Now wait a minute," she piped up. "I came through on that shit." Her eyes darted to Carl before she appended, "Excuse my French."

"They look good, at least," Rick offered diplomatically.

"They taste good too!"

"Only 'cause Carol helped," Sasha inserted in a chipper tone as she approached the table and took a seat. "Hey, y'all."

"Happy Thanksgiving," Rick returned politely.

It wasn't long before Glenn, Maggie, Beth, and Tyreese followed, taking a nearby table with some of the Alexandria folks. The whole gang was there, save for Lori and Carol.

They had begun on their meals, and Michonne had to try hard to keep her eyes off of Rick. Watching him interact with Judith could keep her endlessly entertained, but she typically only witnessed it in the privacy of the Grimes' home. Now, if she stared too long, people would most certainly notice.

"Your sister likes to eat almost as much as I do," Michonne commented jokingly to Carl. "I'm gonna have to take her running with me soon."

Carl smiled brightly at his friend's joke. "She definitely weighs a lot more than she used to."

"This is how it starts," she shook her head playfully.

"Y'all better leave my baby alone," Rick eyed them from across the table. Judith began to stuff a shred of chicken into his mouth and he offered her a small piece of a biscuit. "She has a perfectly normal appetite."

"Yeah, for an adult," Carl teased.

"Oh, I know you're not talkin' with your six meals a day," he shot back.

"Oh, so it runs in the family," Michonne realized in amusement. Food had always been so scarce, she never took notice of how much others did or didn't eat. Only Judith, since she was so new to the act of eating solid food. "No wonder Glenn's always bringing you extra stuff."

"Glenn brings us extra stuff too," Daryl reminded her.

"Glenn brings you and Carol extra stuff," Sasha emphasized. "He's got some kinda favoritism towards the original Atlanta folks."

"Hey!" Glenn called from the table beside them. "That is not true!"

Rick laughed as he looked at Sasha. "It's a little true," he whispered.

"Speaking of Atlanta people, where are Carol and your wife?" she wondered out loud as she inspected the crowded room.

Rick didn't know or care where Lori was, and found himself instinctively looking to Michonne when the question of his wife came up. He knew he needed to stop. Michonne wasn't his wife, wasn't even his girlfriend in the light of day, but he certainly wanted her to be. He was glad to be sharing another Thanksgiving in her presence, but he wished it were under better circumstances.

"So we're really not gettin' anything stronger than fruit punch?" was his reply to Sasha's question.

Daryl hopped up from his seat, obviously just as frustrated with this dry party as Rick seemed to be. "Gotta be a bottle of somethin' around here."

"If you find one, you better share," Maggie demanded from the adjacent table.

"Yeah, yeah," he returned just before disappearing.

With him gone, Rick and Michonne now had a clear view of one another, and she immediately locked eyes with him without even meaning to. Judith turned her head, seemingly curious as to what her father was so taken with, and began to reach for Michonne once she got her answer. Rick took that opportunity to slide into Daryl's chair so that they could be closer.

Michonne happily accepted Rick's baby, laughing as she attempted to grab her headband, as she usually did. Judith was like her father in that way, always trying to pull off her clothes. "Now hold on, mama," she grinned, moving her plate out of the way so that the toddler could sit comfortably on the table. She motioned to fix her headband, but Rick was already on the job, sweetly pulling the scarf back into place. Michonne kept her eyes on Judith as his hands worked, smiling at her when he grazed her forehead in the process.

"Sorry about that," he apologized for Judith with a small smirk. "When she's not eating, she tends to get handsy."

"She's a little thief," Carl shook his head, gazing at his sister. "I can't tell you how many times she's tried to steal my hat."

"She obviously knows she's the one running things," Michonne chuckled at him. "I don't know why you're fighting it."

"It's hard to relinquish power," Rick offered as he slid he and Judith's plate to his new seat. He gave her a spoonful of potatoes and then took some for himself before adding, "I would know."

"You ain't relinquished nothin'," Sasha playfully dismissed him as she scraped her plate clean. "Douglas might think he runs this place, but... come on."

Michonne laughed, knowing Sasha's assessment to be accurate. But that was what she liked about Rick. He was a natural in this position. He didn't know how to give it up. "She's right, you know."

"Well if anything, we're sharing it," he shrugged. He started to grab a napkin to wipe Judith's mouth of all the food smeared across it, but Michonne got to it first. He couldn't help but smile at how attentive she always was with his kids. "Thank you," he softly submitted, watching the side of her face.

Sasha had stopped trying to get a read on the two of them a long time ago, thinking herself crazy for the thoughts she had. Whenever she saw them out and about, they were _always_ smiley and laughing together. Even when Michonne came home from work, she had this air about her that was obviously happy, even if she tried to deny it. And then there were times like this, where Rick and Michonne seemed to be almost blatantly in love with one another. It was crazy. The four of them looked like a family, even. She wondered if they were aware of the vibe they were giving off.

Just then, Douglas Monroe had approached the small group, extending his warm smile to the table's occupants. "Well hello, and Happy Thanksgiving," he greeted them.

Rick and Michonne looked up from entertaining Judith, Michonne with a big grin on her face. "Happy Thanksgiving to you, too."

"How are my favorite sheriff and deputy doing?" he asked them.

"Can't complain," Rick shrugged, looking over to his partner and then his daughter. "So far, my kids are the only criminal element I've seen today."

Douglas laughed as he gave Carl a pat on the back. "And how are you today, Sasha?"

"Doing quite well," she beamed. "We can't thank you enough for this," she added, referring to their extravagant dinner.

"No, no, this was a community effort," he declined the praise. "Don't thank me."

"You organized it though, and I think it was somethin' we all needed," Rick returned sincerely. "We did somethin' similar back at our prison last year, and it really lifted everyone's spirits."

Michonne smiled to herself as she remembered that day. She had been at the prison for a while by then, but it was the first time she'd had a conversation with Carl - the start of their growing friendship. But it was also the first time she'd spoken to Lori at length, and that hadn't been quite so enjoyable.

* * *

><p><em>A year earlier…<em>

Michonne sat quietly at the end of a long table in the prison cafeteria, observing the people she now lived with, all of them jovially consuming their makeshift Thanksgiving. As much as she thought the idea was rather silly, as she looked around the room, she understood why Rick had been so adamant. These people needed a distraction, they needed a reason to be happy. With Andrea's death, and the Governor disappearing into thin air, she was finding it hard to even entertain the prospect of being happy, but that didn't mean everyone else had to feel the same.

She had to admit she felt a bit comforted when Rick finally walked into the room. He was the only one she felt even remotely close to, and typically stayed out of sight when he wasn't around. She smiled to herself when she saw Carl on his heels, as always, with his sheriff's hat perched on his head. It was amusing how much the kid wanted to emulate his father.

She watched them greet a few people before they were served their plates of food. And while she didn't necessarily need the company, or even feel like talking, she was pleasantly surprised when the two of them were headed straight towards her, with Carl leading the way.

"Hey," he greeted her coolly, already settling down into the seat across from her.

"You mind if we join you," Rick asked for the two of them.

"Course not." She watched as he joined his son, entertained by how similar their mannerisms were.

"How come you're sitting here by yourself?" Carl wondered with a perplexed frown.

She felt herself smiling, caught off guard by his bluntness. They hadn't exchanged this many words in the two months she'd been at the prison. "I suppose I was waiting for you," she answered in an attempt to be friendly.

"Well good, because I told my dad that I wanted to get to know you."

"Is that right?" she chuckled this time, looking to Rick for confirmation of this news.

"Like I told you, he's a precocious one," Rick shrugged.

Another bemused grimace covered Carl's entire face. "What does that mean?"

"It means you're too smart for your own good," Michonne answered for him.

His bright blue eyes rested on Michonne while he contemplated whether he agreed. "I'll take that," he nodded.

"He says it like he's got a choice," Rick chuckled, also gazing at the woman across from him. "You had anything to eat yet?

"Not yet. I was waiting to make sure all the little ones and the elders got their plates first."

"Way to make me feel like an asshole," he joked as he began to push his plate towards her. "You should eat."

"I'm fine," she attempted to decline.

"There's plenty of food," Carl assured her. "Dad made sure there would be enough for everyone."

"So go on," Rick continued to offer her his food.

"I can't take yours," she steadfastly refused. "You're always doing something for other people. I can get my own."

"Michonne," his eyebrows raised at her, signifying that he was serious. "I'm not takin' no for an answer."

"Is that so?" she eyed him playfully, wondering what he would do about it. She figured if she beat him to the punch, he simply wouldn't have a choice. She swiftly turned from her seat, and made a beeline for the food table before Rick could even think to stop her.

"You cheated!" he called back to her with an adorable smile taking over his entire face.

"I think she just outsmarted you, Dad," Carl was also smiling, having instantly decided that he liked Michonne. He had been almost scared to talk to her all this time, but his dad was right when he said that she was cool.

Michonne stood at the food table, quite amused with herself as she watched Carol prepare another plate that she would give to Rick since he was so insistent on her taking his.

"I wasn't sure you would show up to this," Carol grinned at her kindly as she handed over her food. "It's nice to see you." It was even nicer to see her laugh for once, but Carol kept that part to herself.

She wasn't sure how to respond, so she offered her a tense smirk back at the woman. "I guess it's nice to be seen." She turned to head back for her table, startled to see Lori standing in front of her, cradling baby Judith. She nearly dropped her plate in surprise. "Jesus, you scared me."

"Can I talk to you for a second?" She attempted to be warm in her request, but had failed miserably.

Michonne frowned and looked back to Rick, but he was engaged with Carl and didn't seem to notice what was happening. "Sure," she shrugged, following her to a less private area.

"Okay," Lori sighed as she began to speak softly. "I know I don't know you. And you don't know me. But I've seen you and Rick, and the way you interact." She shook her head as if disappointed. "This has to stop."

"Excuse me?" she had to stop herself from laughing.

"Rick is my husband," she explained as if Michonne were unable to grasp that fact. "You go on your little secret run and now all of a sudden you're best friends?" Her hazel eyes were full of obvious sadness as she spoke. "Rick is mine, Michonne. Carl is mine. So just keep your distance, all right?"

Knowing exactly how Rick felt about Lori, it was hard for Michonne to take this little rant seriously. In fact, it almost made her feel bad for this woman. She'd seen the way _they_ interacted, and it wasn't pretty. Did Lori really have no idea how they came off? How cold they were to one another? She obviously hadn't known them long, but she could certainly tell how fractured they were, just by looking. Was Lori just in denial?

Lori gazed at the woman before her, trying to figure out why she hadn't responded. She was just standing there, staring into space. "Did you hear anything I said?"

Michonne's features softened from its frown, feeling some form of sympathy for Rick's wife. But she didn't have much in the way of comfort to offer her. "Lori, listen," she began composedly. "I'm not here to steal your husband. But this, whatever it is, is not going to get you what you're looking for. If you have to threaten someone to hold onto the person you love, chances are, they're already gone," she prophesized.

"You have no idea-."

"You're right," Michonne cut her off. "I don't." She was already backing away from the conversation as she finished her thoughts. "But I know what I bring to the table, so trust me when I say I'm not afraid to eat alone. I sincerely hope you're able to find some way to say that for yourself." Without another word, Michonne left the conversation to rejoin the table with Rick and Carl.

* * *

><p><em>Present day…<em>

Lori and Carol were sitting on the patio outside of the clubhouse, enjoying glasses of wine, as well as one another's company. It was cool out, but actually fairly nice for nearly December, and they were taking advantage of the quiet outside. It tended to get noisy when the entire Safe Zone convened in one room.

"You know… I didn't realize how much I loved wine until I couldn't have it every day," Lori declared wistfully.

"Nothing like a good Pinot after a long day," Carol agreed as she took another sip from her glass. "I'd take this over food pretty much every day."

Lori offered a small chuckle. "It's nice to have food every day, though."

"It's all nice, isn't it? Everything is a luxury now."

"We took a lot for granted," she nodded. "Those normal existences. We've killed people for just the chance to get that back."

Carol frowned at her friend, unsure if she should be including herself in that 'we.' "You've killed people?" she asked.

"You know what I mean," she rolled her eyes. She downed what was left of her drink and poured herself another glass.

"Maybe we should get something to eat before we keep going," Carol suggested tentatively. "They had a whole smorgasbord in there, from what I could tell."

Lori had a perfectly clear view of the happenings inside the clubhouse, and Carol was right – food was everywhere. But she could also see Rick and her kids, sitting with Michonne, and she knew she wouldn't be going inside anytime soon. "I don't need to go in there," she answered stoically.

"You gotta eat something. It's our Thanksgiving."

"I don't want to go in there," she said this time, taking another sip of her Cabernet. "I'm fine."

"Well you just tell me what you want and I'll bring you a plate," Carol offered quietly.

"What I want…" Lori chuckled derisively at her statement. What she wanted couldn't be put on a plate.

"What?"

She looked her friend squarely in the eye to confess. "What I want is for my husband to look at me the way he looks at her."

"Lori… what are you…"

She shook her head sadly as she gazed back into the room. Rick, Michonne, Carl, Judith, sitting together, at a table with Daryl and Sasha. They looked so complete, like the family they were meant to be. And it broke her heart every single time she turned to see them smiling at one another. She felt like that had been them, not so long ago. Or maybe it was long ago. Time was so tricky, she couldn't even tell anymore. "He's in love with her," she proclaimed dryly, raising her glass once more. "Always has been."

"Who? What are you saying?" Carol pleaded, baffled by her sudden irrationality.

"Don't act like you don't see it," she exhaled heavily. "He's probably fucking her, too."

"Lori, stop it."

"Good ol', perfect Rick Grimes. Our savior." She rolled her eyes again as she scoffed at the thought. "How much you wanna bet he's been fucking her since we got here?"

"You're drunk," Carol stood from her chair and motioned to head inside and get her something to eat. The wine had obviously gone to her head. But she stopped at the door when she saw Rick and Michonne smiling brightly at one another, just as he wrapped his arm around her neck. It was all very playful, and she'd seen them act similarly before, but in light of Lori's words, it certainly took on a different context now. Maybe her friend was right. "Lori-."

She waved her off, no longer wanting to discuss the fact that she'd lost her husband. "Go on inside, Carol. I'm fine out here alone."


	5. The Kids Aren't All Right

_**A/N: Another round of utterly awesome feedback. I can't tell you guys how much I appreciate hearing from you! And I love 'em long, lol. Also, it's my favorite thing when you guys ask questions that are answered in the following chapter. It totally makes me feel like I'm on the right track in some strange way. So Madison and Puppeteer, I hope this chapter gives you at least a little of what you're looking for. Also, you asked about Sasha and Daryl (aka Dasha) getting together. I think they would be a great pair, and I'm considering adding a pinch of them to my other story. But this one is gonna be kind of a short one, so I don't know. I like where your head is, though. Haha. **_

_**Tbh, I'm sort of in the camp with you guys that Lori is too little too late with her emotions. Like girl, you had that and quite callously threw it away. But it's definitely an interesting thing to explore - what is divorce in an apocalypse? Is it possible? I like when Rick and Lori had that conversation on the show, and I think I'll be bringing that around in some form or another pretty soon. **_

_**Alex, you seriously crack me up. Lori being eaten because she's drunk literally had me cackling. Maybe I'll write that as a one shot? LOL. And DC, I realized when I finished writing this chapter that I was totttttally channeling Mellie. Nice catch!**_

_**But let me shut up now. Thank you guys so fuckin' much! –Ash**_

* * *

><p><strong>5: The Kids Aren't All Right<strong>

"_I'm not gonna let you do this to me, Rick. I'm not gonna let you embarrass me in front of everyone we know."_

"_Oh, you mean like you've done to me for the past two years?"_

It was early in the morning, and Rick and Lori were engaged in a very rare shouting match that was loud enough to wake the neighbors. It had most certainly woken the kids, and Carl had Judith downstairs, trying to keep her calm. Even with doors closed, he could hear every word his parents were saying.

"_You can't say you forgive me and then bring it up every chance you get!"_ Lori was screaming. _"You think it makes you a good guy to just say the words?"_

"_Well then I don't forgive you."_

"_That's not fair."_

"_Life's not fair." _Carl could hear Rick's boots pounding against the wood of his mom's bedroom. It sounded like his dad was leaving.

"_Rick, I really am sorry for what I did to you. But you seem to think you're somehow better than me because you're sticking around, and you're not."_

"_Oh, I'm very clear that I'm better than you,"_ he retorted angrily. _"You didn't just abandon me, Lori. You left those kids, when you realized I had given up on you, and now you're trying to make up for it by making dinner and bein' a housewife again. Fuck you."_

"_Oh, you wanna talk about abandoning kids? You wanna talk about who's making up for lost time?"_

"_Don't you dare bring Judith into this."_

"_You brought 'em both into this. You wanna act like a model father now, but you ignored your daughter for three whole months, so… we've got ourselves a bit of a glass houses and stones situation."_

"_No, what we've got is you trying to use me to justify your own shitty mistakes."_

"_Because that's not what you do every single day."_

"_And there you go again."_

"_Rick, when I fell in love with Shane, I thought you were dead." _She was obviously crying now_. "What you're doing with her is just mean."_

"_What I'm doing with 'her' is none of your concern. We're friends."_

"_If that were true, that would be one thing. But you're letting her take my kids from me!"_

"_No one can do that, Lori."_

"_And yet… she is."_

* * *

><p><em>6 months earlier…<em>

Judith would not stop crying. It was uncomfortably late and Rick was tired. Lori was tired. Even Carl was tired. They couldn't figure out what was wrong. Lori had walked her through the tombs, she tried singing to her, she tried swinging her, but nothing had worked. She was out of moves.

She brought the infant to Rick's cell, out of all other options. "I need you to give this a try," she announced, standing in his doorway. He was lying down, but she knew he couldn't have been asleep, because their daughter had the entire cellblock awake. "She'll do this all night."

He rolled his eyes at the exaggeration, but quickly hopped up to take on the challenge. "All right, come here, baby girl," he sighed, nervously taking Judith from her mother. He had become more at ease being around her, but he lived in constant fear of dropping her, for some reason. He wanted so badly to be good to her that he'd forgotten how to just be a parent. He cradled her in his arms, trying to shush her as they moved away from everyone's cells.

Lori looked on, ready to follow him, but she thought better of it. He wouldn't want her there, and at the end of the day, he would have to bond with her in his own way, on his own terms. She simply went back to her cell, hoping that he could work a miracle.

Rick and Judith made their way into the cafeteria. He figured maybe some warm milk would at least make her sleepy, if not satisfy her a bit. He ended up walking in on Michonne, sitting solitarily, enjoying what looked like a bowl of oatmeal. "Hey," he called out to her over the sound of Judith's wailing.

"Rough night?" she commented with raised eyebrows.

"To say the least," he shook his head. "I don't know whether it's teething or colic, or if she's too hot, too cold…"

"She's six months old. It's not colic," she assured him quietly, leaving her seat to confront the unhappy couple. She tilted her head, attempting to examine the infant, but her eyes kept drifting to her father. "Are you all right?"

"I'm all right," he nodded tiredly. "I just… I wish I knew what was wrong."

"It's nice to see you with her more often," she tentatively attempted to compliment him. She could see his detachment from the child when she first arrived, and had watched that slowly deteriorate over time. It seemed the further he drifted from Lori, the closer he became to Judith. It was all so odd to her, but she did her best not to judge. Nothing made sense anymore.

"It's nice to see you with us more often," he answered. He smiled whenever he saw her around the prison, interacting with the others. He wanted her to feel like she had a home there, and she seemed to want that too.

She liked that he had noticed, but decided not to reply as she examined Judith's gums. "She's definitely got some teeth coming in, but I don't remember her screaming like this before."

"She never has," he confirmed, lifting her to take a look in her mouth as well. "I can't figure out what else it could be, though."

"You mind if I hold her for a sec?"

He was willing to try anything, really. He was careful as he let Michonne take her into her arms, watching every move she made.

She offered the baby a tender smile as she rubbed her tummy, attempting to figure out where her pain was. "Tell me where it hurts, mama." Judith was obviously soothed by the belly-rub, as her crying instantly quieted, but it didn't stop. "Is it something you ate?"

"She just started on solids," Rick suggested quietly. "Is that what this is?"

"It could be." She swayed softly as she continued to stroke Judith's little stomach. It seemed to be working for the time being. "Maybe constipation."

"Jesus," he sighed. "She's been crying for an hour."

"This is the only way she knows how to say it," she reminded him. "We need to get her some water."

He immediately headed for the kitchen, where they kept the sterilized water, as well as Judith's bottles. He filled one about halfway and brought it to Michonne so that she could do what she needed to do. "How do you know so much about babies?" he asked, handing over the bottle.

Her eyes locked on his once she had the bottle in place. She did a quick calculation in her head, the pros versus cons of revealing her secret, and decided that it would be safe in his hands. "I had a son." She exhaled tensely once the words left her lips, and then let her eyes fall back to Judith. She was so precious, so innocent, just like her little boy. She blinked back tears as she waited for Rick to respond.

He was stunned into silence. He began to breathe heavily, unsure of what to say. "Are you…" He nodded to himself as he began to put the pieces together. "He died," he realized, feeling horrified for her.

"He was bitten," she corrected him evenly. "And that boyfriend I told you about?"

"Yeah."

"He was, too."

"Michonne, I'm so-."

"You don't have to feel sorry for me," she smiled up at him. It was the most tragic smile he'd ever seen. "I've made my peace with it."

He nodded. Here he was feeling tormented over Shane, when she was this tower of strength in the face of a true tragedy. He likely would've lost his mind if anything every happened to Carl or Judith. Even Lori.

"When I came here, I told myself that I wouldn't tell anyone this. Didn't want anyone feeling sorry for me."

"But you told me."

"But I told you," she repeated, wishing she knew what that meant. She trusted him beyond all logic, beyond all her efforts to keep people at an arm's length. She told him. "I guess I like you."

* * *

><p><em>Present day…<em>

Carl stood anxiously at the front door of the home across the street from his, hoping that he couldn't be seen while he waited for an answer. Eventually, the door swung open with Daryl on the other side. Seeing that he wasn't accompanied by his father, he looked the kid up and down, waiting for him to say something. He didn't.

"You get locked out or somethin'?" Daryl asked, noting that he was likely just returning from school.

"No," Carl answered confidently. "Is Michonne home?"

"Oughta be." He opened the door wide, allowing the teenager inside their abode. As he stepped further into the hallway, he called for his roommate. "'Chonne, you here?"

"Yeah!" she yelled back. Within a few seconds, she appeared at the landing of the steps, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, along with a surprised smile. "Hey, Carl."

"Hey," he looked up to her.

"Your dad lookin' for me?"

"No, he's still gone," he shook his head. "I just came for a visit."

She frowned. They'd been in Alexandria for months and he had never done such a thing. "You get locked out or something?"

"That's what I asked," Daryl smirked, looking up at her as well. "I got watch in a few minutes. Y'all good?"

Carl nodded and set his backpack down on the floor near their front door. "I'm fine."

"If you see Rick coming in, let him know he's here?"

"'Course," Daryl nodded as well before taking off to retrieve his gear.

Michonne smiled down at her visitor for the afternoon. As much as she didn't understand why he was there, she was happy to have him. "Come on up, kiddo. You can help me clean."

"You know, I can stay down here, actually. I don't wanna get in your way."

"Get your ass up here," she directed him with a joking grin. "I'm putting up a shower curtain and could actually use your help."

"Is that it?" he wondered cautiously as he headed up the steps. "I'm not gonna have to scrub any toilets?"

"I make no promises." Still smiling, she directed him to the bathroom that she shared with Sasha, where she had a bucket of cleaning supplies sitting in the sink. She directed him to stand on the commode and help remove the current curtain that was hanging. "So how was school today?" she asked as they got started on their task.

"I got an A on my language arts test," he shrugged casually. "And Jenn let me use some of the day to just read, so that was cool."

"Nicely done," she grinned, impressed. "What'd you read?"

"The Kama Sutra."

Michonne dropped her end of curtain and almost fell from her post on the edge of the bathtub. "What?"

Carl laughed out loud at her reaction. "I'm kidding."

"I hate you," she chuckled with a roll of her eyes. "What do you even know about that book?"

"I know my friend's mom had it on a bookshelf in her bedroom, and we got in major trouble one time for having it out."

"Jesus, are you serious?"

Carl nodded, handing her his finished end. "It's funny now, but she told my mom and everything. It was awkward as hell."

"You're much too smart for your own good, you know."

"People say that to me all the time, and I'm not sure why."

"You know exactly why." She hopped off the ledge to grab the new curtain, handing him one end while she watched. "So what were you really reading?"

"Oliver Twist," he answered shyly.

"Why are you blushing about that, but not when you tell me you read the Kama Sutra?"

"It's so stupid," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I dunno."

"Carl…"

"No, it's nothing that interesting. I was just thinking about how dorky it is that I read it because my dad told me he played the Artful Dodger once in a school play."

She tried to contain her smile, because she knew he would hate it, but that was positively the cutest thing she'd ever heard. "That's adorable!"

"Don't."

"I know, I know," she shook away her smile and sobered up for his sake. "But it is."

"I didn't finish it, but I want to."

She was so amused, but she let him continue his job while she quietly observed. He moved quickly and deliberately, making sure every rung was snapped closed before he moved to the next one. He was a lot like his father, she thought, so attentive and careful.

"How come you're not with my dad," he asked, shaking her from her thoughts.

Her first instinct was to frown at the question, feeling as if he'd accused her of something. It took her a moment to realize that he was referring to work and not play. "He didn't need me to come," she explained simply. "It was a routine run into the city. And I'm gonna work tomorrow so he can have the day off."

"Oh, great," he sighed.

That reaction didn't jive with Carl's typical reaction to his father. The kid adored the guy. Something odd was definitely going on. "Get down," she told him.

"I only have two more," he answered, looking down at her, confused.

"I'll finish it later. Come." She led the teenager back down the stairs to the kitchen, where she could sit and interrogate him properly. She was going to get to the bottom of this little visit.

"Do you have any food?" Carl wondered as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

She grabbed a box of stale Teddy Grahams and sat it in front of him. "That should get you to dinner," she decided for him. "Why don't you want your dad to have a day off?"

"What?" His eyebrows knitted in confusion over his beautiful blue eyes. "I do."

"Well you answered all extra sarcastic when I told you he'd be off tomorrow."

He looked down at the box in front of him and began to open the contents. He was hungry, but he was more concerned with avoiding the question. He absolutely wanted his dad to have a day off. But he knew it meant his dad would be at home. With his mother.

Michonne saw that he obviously wasn't comfortable answering that question, so she asked another. "How come you didn't go home today?"

Silence.

"Carl, I need you to answer me, or I'm gonna start thinking you're being abused." She knew Rick and Lori would never, but he wasn't giving her much to go on.

"Oh my god, why would you jump to that conclusion?" He looked mortified. "No, it's nothing like that. I just… I dunno."

"You do know."

"It's hard to be in that house when my dad's not home," he admitted quietly. "It's like living with a dead person."

She knew he was referring to Lori, and her heart broke for him.

"But then it's hard when they're both home, because it's like living with two dead people." He shook his head, thinking of how miserable his parents were together. Or not together. Their house felt like a funeral home sometimes. "Maybe I'm included in that," he added somberly.

"Oh god." She closed her eyes, trying to think of a reason it could be okay for a child to feel this way. He'd seen a lot of awful things, but she wondered if watching his parents deteriorate before his very eyes could have been the worst. "I'm so sorry, kiddo."

He shook his head dismissively. "I think he stays because he thinks she can't take care of herself."

"And you think she can?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I thought so, but maybe he really is what's holding her together."

"Or maybe you are."

"Maybe," he shrugged. He downed a couple of the graham cracker cookies as he looked out of the back window of Michonne's home. She had a cool view of a creek, surrounded by a bunch of trees. They were all dead at the moment, but it was a nice sight. "They had a fight this morning, for the first time in a while. It was kinda nice to hear."

"The fight was nice to hear," she asked disbelievingly. She wasn't even sure if he knew what he was saying anymore.

"Nice to hear something other than silence."

This kid was going to be the death of her. She wanted to give him a big bear hug, never letting him go. She hated that his parents were putting him through this. And by extension, she was putting him through this.

"I don't want my mom to be alone," he locked eyes with Michonne. He needed her to understand that what he was saying wasn't out of malice. "I don't think she deserves my dad, but I don't want her to be alone. I just want us to be happy."

"And you deserve that," she nodded tenderly. "You, most of all, deserve that."

"My dad does, too."

She couldn't respond to that. She was obviously fond of Rick, but as much as Lori ruined her marriage, she and Rick were probably doing a lot of their own damage in this little affair of theirs. His need to be the good guy was turning him into a bad guy. And worst of all, his son had no idea.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Michonne and Carl were still sitting at the kitchen table. Sasha made dinner, as she often did, consisting of vegetable lasagna and carrot soup. Carl thought sure he would hate it, but it turned out to be delicious. He immediately decided that he liked it at Michonne's house.<p>

After dinner, Michonne pulled out the portable DVD player as a treat for him. Every house had one, but it had to be used sparingly, so as not to waste a lot of energy charging them. "So I know your reading game is on point," she announced, smiling at him, "but movies are the fabric of our lives, too, and you've missed out on a lot in your formative years, my friend."

"Not my fault though," he held up a finger in protest.

"No, of course not. The world ruined that for you, but I'm gonna make it right." She slid a copy of her favorite movie across the table, letting it land in front of him. "Your first assignment is Pulp Fiction."

Carl was beaming at the idea. He had watched a couple of movies with Judith since they'd arrived at Alexandria, but it was all kid stuff. That's all the neighbors ever brought them. He appreciated that Michonne knew he was over that. "Can I watch it now?" he asked excitedly.

"You sure can." She hopped up from her seat, preparing to start on the dishes. "There are some headphones in that drawer," she nodded towards the counter opposite her. "You can make yourself comfortable in the living room."

He found a pair of ear buds that probably once belonged to an iPod and glanced at his friend. "You mind if I stay in here?"

"Not at all," she grinned. She went on to clear the table while he watched his movie. She hoped this distracted him a bit, if not made him feel a little better.

It was dark, so she knew Rick would be home soon, and she couldn't wait to talk to him. She felt compelled to ask if she could keep Carl there with her, but again, she knew better of Rick and Lori. She just wanted the kid to be happy.

Just as she was beginning to plate the leftovers for Daryl and Carol, the doorbell rang. "That should be your dad," she uselessly said out loud, knowing Carl wouldn't even hear her. Indeed, she reached he front door to find Rick standing there in uniform, looking tired. Whether it was from the day he'd had, or something else, she couldn't tell. "Hey there."

He smiled at her warmly. Seeing her face always evoked that reaction from him. "Hey."

"Long day?"

He nodded. "Daryl said Carl came by after school. I figured I'd check to see if he's still here before I dare walk in the house without him."

"He is," she confirmed, stepping aside so that he could come in. "Said he didn't wanna be alone at home with his mom."

Rick turned back to her words, wondering if he'd heard them correctly. "He said that?"

She pulled him back towards the steps so that they couldn't be heard if they spoke low enough. "Rick, he's miserable. And he thinks you two are, too."

He exhaled heavily and then rested an exasperated hand over his face. He hated to think he'd done anything to hurt his son, but he quickly realized how silly it was to think his relationship with Lori wouldn't affect his kids.

"Carl adores you," Michonne whispered, wanting to make him feel better. "But kids are perceptive. Him, especially. You can't keep this up anymore."

He nodded again, knowing how right she was. And how wrong he was. He'd known for a long time, but thought maybe keeping up the charade was the best option for everyone. In the end, though, as much as he wanted to, he just couldn't hide the fact that he hated his wife. "Carl asked me a while ago if we could just move out. I didn't know what to say."

"You're scared to leave her alone," she understood. She got it. "You always have been. Even when you took off your wedding ring, you never really left."

"I don't know why."

"It's hard to just walk away from someone you've loved. Even if they're not who you want them to be."

"Even though she walked away from me repeatedly."

"Even then," she shook her head. "And I probably wouldn't love you if you were the type of person that could've left easily."

His eyes darted up at her admission, immediately feeling tormented by the words. She loved him? She loved him. She loved him and he was wasting his life away, spending it with someone he could no longer bear to look at. Making his children miserable, raising them in this quiet, tense home. Lori was their mother, so it always seemed only right to stay. But was it?

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: Next chapter, we'll explore a little bit more of how and why Rick fell in love with Michonne, and completely out of love with Lori. Yikes!**_


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